


The Needs of the Many

by Artemis1000



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Distrust, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Finnrey but not enough to ship tag it, Knights of Ren - Freeform, M/M, New Republic rebuilding post Starkiller, Not Canon Compliant - Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Politics, Propaganda, knightpilotweek, sacrifices for the greater good
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-18 04:34:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7299754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis1000/pseuds/Artemis1000
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Honestly, Poe thinks it was a mistake to let Kylo Ren buy his pardon with a few measly First Order secrets. But this is war, and he’s fine with the bigwigs making hard decisions as long as he won’t have to go anywhere near the male lead of all his nightmares. Poe Dameron keeps being fine with it, right until he finds himself dragged into a propaganda scheme that features him and Ren as Resistance power couple. </p><p>With the New Republic’s political power plays infecting the Resistance, Poe’s getting dragged into conflicts well above his paygrade, and Kylo Ren might become the closest thing to an ally he can get. And his boyfriend. Right. Gotta remember he’s happily in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Greatest Good

**Author's Note:**

> My second knightpilotweek fic, this one for the combined themes of commitment and masquerade.
> 
> I'd been wanting to write a straightforward arranged marriage fic for a while, but then "masquerade" invited a fake relationship instead, and here we are. If this story becomes what I'd like it to be, it will have a grander scope exploring how the New Republic copes in the aftermath of the Hosnian destruction, and how its relationship with the Resistance changes once they are openly at war with the First Order.
> 
> ETA: With TLJ out, this fic is not going to be canon-compliant (I never expected it to be), it veers off very much into AU territory straight after TFA. Some elements and characters of TLJ will be included, albeit in different context.

_"It is the greatest good to the greatest number of people which is the measure of right and wrong."  
\-- Jeremy Bentham_

You would think that after knowing your capital system had been wiped out, and you firing the killing shot that had destroyed the planet-sized weapon responsible for it, nothing could surprise you anymore.

When Han Solo left the Millennium Falcon followed by Chewie, then by Finn happily holding on to Rey’s hand, and then by _him_ , Poe Dameron had been proven wrong. He was still wearing the same black robes he had worn when he slaughtered a village and tore apart Poe’s mind

“How can you let him walk free? Doesn’t anybody care what he’s done?” he had later asked the General, and the overwhelming sense of betrayal had nearly robbed him of his voice altogether.

General Organa had looked at him with such sadness in her dark eyes, but she hadn’t lied to him. She had only said, “I’m sorry, Poe.”

The official statements had been harder to bear.

The answer was simple: yes, command remembered what Kylo Ren had done, and no, they didn’t care.

With the New Republic to go to war as soon as it had a provisional government to declare it, and the Resistance the first line of defense in the meantime, they needed whatever advantage they could get. War had always been a dirty business. Since the days their distant ancestors fought another with swords and shields, enemy war criminals would be welcomed as heroes if they switched sides at the opportune moment.

Whether by design or chance, Kylo Ren had defected at the most opportune moment. The Resistance wanted another Jedi to bring about miracles on the battlefield, and New Republic Intelligence would be slavering for the information a high-ranking defector could provide.

There had been a lot of flowery language about his contribution to the destruction of Starkiller Base, and coy allusions that he’d been a plant all along. Quite frankly, it made Poe sick. Being best friends with Rey and Finn, he knew the real story.

The only ones who seemed to remember how much blood he had on his hands were the men and women on the ground, but it wasn’t like anybody cared to hear their opinion.

“Cheer up, I’m sure they’ll lock him up once the war’s been won,” Snap told him one evening when the pilots sat together, and conversation turned back to Ren as it did so often these days.

Last Poe had seen him, he had been wearing flowing brown robes and calling himself a Jedi Knight.

Poe turned his scowl on the bottle in his hands. He was high-ranking enough to know better. The provisional government had already issued a pardon, and while you could hold many things against the New Republic’s leadership, they – unlike Kylo Ren – didn’t go back on their word.

 

The next time Poe saw Kylo Ren, it was at a command meeting, and he was back to wearing black. It looked like he’d given up on that Ben Solo farce.

On virtue of being the Master of the Knights of Ren he had also wormed his way into Resistance command.

“This is a joke, right?!” Poe exclaimed, more of a yelp than a bellow, much to his chagrin. He leaped up so quickly that his chair toppled over backwards. When it righted itself pulled by invisible strings, Poe remembered invisible fingers closing around his throat, and adrenaline sent his heart racing, but he gritted his teeth and refused to give Ren the satisfaction of his fear. “Isn’t one of him,” he jabbed a finger at Ren, “enough? Now we’re bringing in the whole lot of them like they’re stray puppies?” Poe felt ice settle low in his belly as he pictured seven nightmarish figures stalking the base that used to be his sanctuary, and hadn’t felt safe since Ren first stepped foot into it.

“Commander,” Senator Ransolm Casterfo, their New Republic liaison, said sternly, “please control yourself. Lord Ren has spent the last months negotiating his order’s surrender, and the provisional government is very pleased that he succeeded at last. The Knights of Ren’s defection is a debilitating loss to the First Order.”

Poe had to fight to keep from rolling his eyes. He sounded like he was citing a press release.

Soon after Casterfo arrived, General Organa had slipped up after a long and exhausting strategy session with Poe, and admitted she sometimes yearned for the days when the New Republic pretended the Resistance didn’t exist. They had money and honors heaped on them now, but the price they paid for it was their freedom to operate as was needed.

“It’s going to be our loss when they slaughter us all in our sleep,” Admiral Ackbar muttered.

“The Knights of Ren treated directly with the New Republic, not with the Resistance,” General Organa interjected, which Poe figured was her way of agreeing with Ackbar.

She had aged a lot in the months since the Hosnian system was destroyed. Poe couldn’t even begin to fathom what it felt like to have your long-lost son returned to you, only to watch him slip away again with your own government’s blessings.

The rest of the meeting passed with soldiers talking strategy and Master Skywalker talking Jedi wisdom. Poe was too shaken to contribute much, and Kylo Ren stayed silent altogether.

“Walk with me, Poe,” General Organa said after the meeting, and she waited barely till they were out of earshot before saying, “I don’t like it either. I know you don’t like Ben,” Poe squirmed at that as he couldn’t deny it without lying, but fortunately the General didn’t wait for a reply, “but I trust him. I don’t trust his knights. They sided with us because they want to be on the winning side.”

“And if our fortunes change, they’ll be the first to abandon ship,” Poe surmised grimly. Costing them lives and secrets in the process. Ben Solo had wiped out a whole temple when he defected, Poe shuddered to think what six – seven? – of them would do.

“Yes. But Ransolm is right in that it’s better to have them fighting for us than against us right now.” General Organa kept walking, and seemed lost in thoughts for so long that Poe thought she had said her piece.

He was just about to part ways with her when she said, “Poe,” and stopped, placing a hand on his arm. They were in an otherwise abandoned corridor. She didn’t look so old and tired anymore as she looked right into his eyes. “I really am sorry, Poe,” she said, and her voice was firm, albeit gentle, “I haven’t forgotten what my son did to you, and that fighting side by side with him is more than I had any right to ask of you.”

Poe opened his mouth, but snapped it shut again when he thought better of some vague _it’s alright_. It wasn’t alright, and the General knew it. He gulped. “It _is_ a lot to ask for. For me and for everybody who suffered due to him.” General Organa just kept watching him, which Poe took as a prompt to continue. “He didn’t push the button, but the one who did isn’t here. Everybody blames him for the Hosnian system and for… well, everything else.”

“Do you blame him for everything, Poe?”

Poe thought of the nights he woke up bathed in cold sweat, throat raw from his screams. Of the icy tendrils of fear that crept down his spine and paralyzed him every time he heard Ren’s mask-muffled voice. He thought of the village on Jakku, of people who would never even have graves because Kylo Ren had ordered them burned like garbage once the slaughter was done.

“I think blaming him for his own crimes keeps me busy enough, Ma’am.”

General Organa looked so mournful that Poe regretted his honesty. “I told you the story of my torture at Darth Vader’s hands,” she said quietly, “what I didn’t tell you is that my brother kept pushing me to forgive him.” Her hand, still clasping Poe’s arm, tightened on it. “I couldn’t.”

Poe forced himself to exhale slowly. He could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears. “I can only promise to try,” he said, “I don’t know if I can…”

“I’m not asking you to forgive him, Poe.” She didn’t look sad so much as guilty anymore. It did nothing to reassure Poe. “You said it yourself, everybody’s blaming him. And now the Republic has returned his own militia to him.”

 _You mean, Casterfo has_ , Poe wanted to say. When Casterfo arrived everyone expected the General and him to be like cats and dogs, but they’d quickly learned that they respected another. Poe had even heard rumors that he had General Organa to thank for not getting executed when he was framed for treason six years ago.

“There’s going to be a backlash, and we might lose hi… them in the process.”

Poe pretended not to have noticed her slip of tongue. “There are many people who think he should have been locked up, if not executed outright. They won’t be happy we’re bringing in more of them.” Poe shrugged. “Mind you, it would help if he didn’t stalk around base wearing that mask and swinging the lightsaber he’s killed untold innocents with …”

“I know. Maybe you stand a better chance of explaining this to him.”

He winced. “If it’s all the same to you I’d rather not. I haven’t spoken to him once since the Finalizer, and I’d like to keep it that way.” And now the General looked pained. Poe’s feeling of not-being-reassured grew into quiet alarm.

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, actually.” The General visibly had to brace herself, which made Poe’s alarm flare up to low-level panic. “You are respected and well-liked by your peers. They follow your lead. If you were seen publicly giving Ben a chance, as well as his knights once they arrive…”

“You’re setting up playdates for him now?” Poe blurted out before he could remember he admired General Organa, and she deserved respect no matter what she asked of him. She had been tortured by Vader. She knew how hard it was to forgive. “I’m sorry, Ma’am,” he said, gaze lowered in shame, and yes, also in fear that she would read too much in them. “I know you’re only asking because it’s for the greater good.”

Poe tried to picture himself sharing a drink with Kylo Ren, chatting and laughing with him, and though he tried to picture the handsome Jedi, he could only see the masked horror straight out of his nightmares.

And yet the fact was that General Organa was standing in front of him looking utterly defeated and still so terribly guilty, and he couldn’t stand to see her like this.

He took a deep breath. “I can try. I’m not much of an actor, but I can give him a chance, if you think it’ll help.” Every word felt heavy on his tongue, like he was consigning himself to another round of torture. He probably was.

General Organa looked momentarily lost in thoughts, and then determined. “You would be doing us a great favor. I promise that nobody will ask more of you.”

They spoke of more pleasant things until they were back in crowded hallways again, and Poe departed for the hangar. He went away feeling like he had gotten only half the story, but that was to be expected these days.

 

That same evening Poe sat alone in the mess hall, having chosen to go when he knew none of his friends would be there so as to keep brooding in peace.

His promise of a friendship with Kylo Ren hung over him like his very own cloud of doom. Really, he just wanted to hide away in the hangar and forget everything else over tinkering on Black One.

The chair across from him being moved made him look up from his stew, only to catch sight of swaths of black cloth, and then higher, into the face of a man who looked about as happy to be here as Poe felt. At least he’d lost the mask.

“Don’t glare at me like that, pilot.” Ren stabbed his meat with the viciousness of a man who’d rather be stabbing his enemy. “Unless you’d like the rumors to be _very_ colorful, that is.”

Poe looked around. People were watching, as they should, but nobody was close enough to overhear as long as they remained quiet. “Look,” he hissed, clutching his spoon for dear life, “I’m not happy about it either, so I suggest you grow up and stop trying to sabotage this… _thing_.”

Kylo looked momentarily taken aback. He licked his lips. “Fine. If that’s how you want to play it.”

Poe waited for Ren to speak again, but he didn’t and Poe didn’t feel like making an effort when Ren didn’t. It was funny, Poe had never thought of himself as a passive-aggressive person. Trust Kylo Ren to bring out the worst in him.

When Poe was finished, Ren followed him out the mess hall, and finally asked, “so, will we be going to your place or mine?”

Poe nearly tripped over his own feet.

He whirled around, glaring at the man with a fervor that would have shocked him if he’d been looking into a mirror. “What the kriff are you talking about?!”

They ended up going to his, just because he wasn’t stupid enough to set foot into Ren’s lair.

The moment the door closed behind them, Poe crossed his arms and demanded, “alright, we’re alone, now say your piece.” It was almost enough bravado to convince himself he didn’t feel like he had just trapped himself with a monster.

Ren looked distinctly uncomfortable and avoided his eyes, but he was taut with a tension that warned Poe to tread lightly around him. “I take it you spoke only to my mother,” he said, and before Poe could ask what that had to do with anything, he explained, “I spoke to Casterfo afterwards; he was more forthcoming.” He finally met Poe’s eyes. He looked furious beneath that thin veneer of patronizing calm; it sent cold prickles down Poe’s spine. “Use your brain, pilot, I know you’ve got one. The New Republic wants propaganda pieces.” He let a heartbeat pass. “Friendship doesn’t make headlines.”

Ice settled in Poe’s belly - and just like that, the other half of the story clicked into place.

“He wants us to be like Rey and Finn,” he breathed.

Finn was happy to help with the occasional propaganda clip or interview, knowing they might encourage other Stormtroopers to turn their back on a lifetime on indoctrination.

But the true video gold was their love story. The fearless Jedi and trooper turned Resistance fighter had become instant holonet darlings. They invited poetic tales of love conquering all.

“Casterfo’s already got his holonet romance,” Poe protested weakly, shaking his head. When he raised his hand to rub it over his face, he realized it was shaking.

“But it’s not the same.” Ren’s face twisted into a sneer as he quoted Casterfo, “neither of them has your generations-spanning symbolic significance to the cause.”

Poe swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. “That… can’t deny that,” he said weakly.

Worst of all was, it did make sense to his inner strategist. If he were in propaganda warfare, he would be wanting this, too.

They were Rebel Alliance children, Poe fighting the good fight in the second and Ren in the third generation. Soldiers wouldn’t see themselves in the Jedi from Jakku, or the First Order defector, but they would recognize their own story when they read Poe’s. Some might even see themselves in Ren, though Poe would rather not trust any such person with a blaster. More importantly, Poe would be the guarantee that Ren was the real deal. If their best pilot trusted the Master of the Knights enough to love him, others would find it easier to tolerate the knights.

“So, are they going to say you returned out of love for me then?”

Ren’s eyes widened into a subtle deer-in-the-headlights expression. Poe could see him gulp. “I don’t think so. It’s too late for that.”

Poe nodded. He had never criticized the decisions of his superiors, but he hadn’t made a secret out of his dislike for Ren either. Too many people would recognize it for the lie it was.

He sat down on his small couch. “So that’s the full story then.” He kind of wished he hadn’t heard it.

Ren approached the couch, though he didn’t sit. “You’re taking this very well.”

Poe scoffed. “What do you expect me to do? Sure, I feel like punching a wall, but that wouldn’t make it better.” He swallowed hard. “Besides, General Organa said I won’t have to do anything I don’t want to.”

“That must be nice,” Ren muttered. He sounded bitter, and Poe realized how shaky his position was. The only people in the whole wide galaxy who gave a damn about him were his parents. He couldn’t afford to alienate his allies.

Poe looked down at his folded hands. It was weird to think of Kylo Ren as someone who could be alone, or lonely even, or frightened. He didn’t think he liked attributing that much humanity to him. But Poe was inherently kind, and he’d always been proud that the war couldn’t strip him of this.

If he went along with it, it would be just another secret mission for the Resistance. Having the Knights fighting for them or against them made a huge difference… and really, who was he kidding. If he was going to do this, he would be doing it for General Organa.

“I promised the General I’d give you a chance, as a friend,” he began haltingly, “and I’ll keep my word.” His eyes flickered up, he really wished Ren would stop looming over him and just sit. Having to look up to him like this was too reminiscent of the Finalizer for Poe’s comfort. He took a deep breath. “I don’t know if I can do more.” Poe rubbed his hands over his face. “I see the logic of it, on a purely professional level I support this plan, I just…”

“You don’t know if you can stomach it.”

Now he really couldn’t bear to meet his eyes. He nodded. “Yes. Basically.”

Mercifully, Ren didn’t try to reassure him. Poe wanted to believe he understood there was nothing he could do or say to make it better, but it was far more likely Ren just didn’t care.

Maybe if he went along with it, people would finally trust Ren, and accept him as the Resistance’s second Jedi champion his mother had been trying to sell him as. Or Sith, or whatever the hell he was playing at today. Then Rey wouldn’t bear the full weight of an entire galaxy’s hopes and dreams anymore.

“I don’t know if I can do it,” Poe repeated. “I’ve still got nightmares. I… I’ve got goosebumps, even now.” He lifted his head to Ren. He was still looming, just like on the Finalizer. “I want to do this, but I just don’t know _how_ when I doubt I could even stand to be touched by you.”

“I don’t think I can do it either,” Ren murmured. He must have read Poe’s confusion in his eyes, because he added, “I’m not revolted by you. But I don’t know how to fake being happy and in love.” His face tightened. “I have never witnessed the kind of love we were to show.”

Poe opened his mouth to suggest his parents, but then he thought of what he’d seen of the Organa-Solo family… All the old rebel stories spoke of their epic love, but it must have been a very long time since they were happy. “And I’m a terrible liar.”

Ren nodded, just once, but decisively. His face had become as unreadable as if he wore his mask. “It was one of Casterfo’s more ridiculous ideas all along.”

“Yes. I guess so.” Poe couldn’t help it, though she hadn’t asked at all he felt like he was letting down General Organa. He nodded, too. “I’ll see you tomorrow then. At breakfast. For the… um… the friendship thing. We should go about it slowly, or else it’ll look forced.”

“Of course. Good night, Commander.”

Poe kept gazing at the door to his quarters long after they had closed after Kylo Ren.

When he laid in bed that night he pictured Ren wearing Jedi robes again, and tried to imagine what it would be like to kiss him. Didn’t he have sensual lips? Wouldn’t you want to be held by these large, strong hands? He didn’t have to find a lot to like about Kylo Ren, just enough that he could fake it.

But no matter how hard Poe tried, all he could see was the mask that haunted his nightmares.

To be continued…


	2. Storybook Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe's having second thoughts about The Plan, and every attempt at communication is painfully stilted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your comments and kudos! This fic is slow-going, but I have big plans for it. I'd like it to be far more ensemble than anything I've written for Star Wars so far, so expect to see some beloved characters from both Disney and EU canon.
> 
> But today it's gonna be all Poe and Kylo!

_The sweetest of words in our storybook love_

_Are the sweetest of storybook lies  
\- “Storybook”, Heather Dale_

 

The next morning, Poe put a little more effort into shaving and doing his hair, and then spent about five minutes contemplating the bottle of Coruscanti aftershave his friends had once gotten him as a joke present. In the end he put it back unused, having decided it’d be better put to use making himself alluring to Kylo once he had reason to try and lure him.

The accomplished officer and pilot in him – best pilot in the Resistance! – bristled at giving the appearance that he was primping himself to seduce a man who stood for everything he despised. If anybody bent over backwards to entice, it should be Ren. Force knew nobody was going to fall head over heels for his personality. But this was no time to get squeamish.

By the time Poe made it to the mess hall Ren was already there, sitting alone as he always did. While military discipline kept the Resistance fighters from being outwardly hostile to him, it didn’t obligate anyone to play at being friends.

Poe didn’t have to fake his hesitation, or that his steps kept slowing the closer he got to the table. “Have you got a seat for me?” he asked, his smile a bit strained.

Maybe the surprise on Ren’s face was just good acting, but Poe suspected it was real. He kind of wanted to punch Ren in his startled face for that. Did he really think so little of Poe’s promises? Unlike Ren, he always kept his word. “Of course, Commander.”

He could have sworn there was a hint of mockery to Ren’s voice as he called him by his rank, but for the sake of no-face-punching Poe chose to ignore it. “Thanks.”

The awkward silence was all natural.

Knowing it would happen somehow didn’t make it any easier to bear far too many curious eyes on them. He felt cold under their scrutinizing eyes, he just couldn’t help picturing how curiosity would turn to suspicion and harsh judgement once they understood what was happening between Ren and him.

Okay. Time to suck it up. Nobody would believe that he spread his legs for Ren if he found him too distasteful even for a _chat_.

He tried, he really tried to think of something pleasant and suitably amiable to say, but Poe just couldn’t think of a single thing. So they ate in silence, sending another wary little looks and starting every time their eyes met.

“Nice weather we’re having,” Poe blurted out when he just couldn’t take the awkward silence anymore.

Ren looked at him as if he’d grown a second head. “The acid rain?”

“Oh.” He coughed, and drained his cup of caf. “Right. I haven’t been outside much. Jet-stream winds and acid rain aren’t my kind of world unless I’m in Black One.”

Ren nodded. “It makes mother’s horror stories of Hoth sound downright homey.”

Poe squirmed, discomfited by the reminder that Ben Solo was raised with the same tales of Rebel Alliance heroics as him. If he thought about it too much he would wonder how any Rebel child could stomach joining the First Order, and then he would want to pour his caf in Ren’s face. It would be a waste of good caf, though it might add flavor to their passionate love story.

They went back to eating in silence.

The eyes on them continued to prickle uncomfortably. To Poe, it felt like they turned into dozens of needles stabbing him.

And it just wasn’t fair. He would gladly bear their judgement for true love, but Kylo Ren was a genuinely terrible person and it was Poe’s job to convince everyone that he wasn’t. It felt wrong. It felt too much like betraying his comrades’ trust, and it wasn’t fair to Poe either.

He tried to picture himself sitting here in a month or two, playing at being in love, letting Ren touch him as if the man wasn’t a regular guest in his nightmares.

With his gruel only half-eaten, Poe stood up abruptly. He’d lost his appetite. “Excuse me. I’ve got to get to the hangar.”

 

He made it barely out of the mess hall before Ren’s fingers closed around his wrist.

For the second time in as many days, Poe Dameron found himself hauled away. Not to his quarters this time, just into a cramped little restroom right next to the mess hall.

“You’re angry,” Ren remarked as soon as they were alone. To his credit, he released Poe’s arm as well as soon as they were alone. “If you want to back out, just say so.”

“I don’t…” Poe closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I’d be lying if I said I don’t want out,” he corrected himself, because anything else would have been a ridiculously obvious lie, “but I’m not _going_ to back out.” He tilted his head back to meet Ren’s eyes. His jaw was clenched. “But yes, I _am_ angry. I couldn’t sleep last night, and I started thinking about,” he gestured at the both of them, “this. About what it’s going to mean for me.”

Ren’s brows knit, he tilted his head which just looked overdone on top of that. He still telegraphed his body language like he would while wearing his helmet.

“I’m angry that everybody’s going to look at me and call me the Resistance slut who can’t keep it in his pants around mass murderers.”

Put like that, spoken aloud, it sounded petty to Poe’s own ears. Silly, even. Some nasty gossip shouldn’t matter on the grand scale of things. And it didn’t. But the more he had thought about it, the more it did matter.

His hands curled into fists at his sides. Poe wasn’t even the kind of man who wanted to punch things when he got angry, that was Ren’s forte, but… Maybe he was already rubbing off on him. Or maybe he was just lashing out, like all cornered animals did. “I’ve worked hard to get where I am. It takes more than flying talent to make it to my position. You’ve got to have discipline, integrity, you’re under constant scrutiny not just as a pilot but as a person. And your leadership skills shouldn’t get judged based on who you sleep with, but when we’re talking sleeping with the enemy I can’t even fault anyone for judging.”

Ren didn’t even look surprised. That he didn’t seem wounded by Poe’s rejection somehow only made it worse. He really didn’t matter to Ren except as a means to an end, he didn’t even matter enough to get angry. “They won’t demote you because you’re doing their dirty work.”

Poe shook his head sharply. “No, no, of course not. Command wouldn’t do that. Even the ones who don’t know the truth. They’d welcome you having an incentive to stay.” He laughed harshly. “I mean, if we weren’t the Resistance, if we weren’t the _good guys_ , they’d probably be throwing our prettiest soldiers at you. It’s not like anybody’s got a better idea to make you stay.” But the reminder that it could be worse didn’t help him here and now.

He sighed loudly. “Only, the men on the ground, my pilots… My squad’s going to wonder if they can trust me. Deep down, they’ll consider me compromised. Maybe it won’t be so bad if we can make it look like real love, but they’ll still be wondering, and that split second of doubt? In a dogfight, that split second’s what makes the difference between life or death.”

“I see.” Ren withdrew as much as he could in the small room, maybe he had been affected by Poe’s words, after all. His face was surprisingly hard to read for someone who used to hide behind a mask.

Poe watched them in the cracked mirror above the sink. They really didn’t look like much of a fairytale couple.

He rubbed his hands over his tired, drawn face. The circles beneath his eyes kept getting darker with every day. They weren’t old, Ren and him. Just in their early 30s. Wasn’t this supposed to be the age when the world was full of possibilities? “This is pretty messed up,” he murmured. “We should be thinking of children and buying a house, not of _this_ …”

In the mirror, he caught sight of Ren looking like a deer caught in the speeder lights, and added, “not together, mind you. Just… isn’t that how it goes for normal people?”

Ren got closer and canted his hip, propped himself up against the far end of the sink. He looked more human right now than Poe had ever seen him before, even all in black with the lightsaber dangling from his belt. “Do you want a normal life?” Even his voice sounded more… just _more_. Gentler, maybe, without that predatory edge that accompanied his faux gentleness.

Poe gave a choked little laugh. “You mean hiding on some cushy little planet while the galaxy burns? That’s not me. I can’t sit tight and hope it won’t hit me while other people are dying.”

Ren’s lips twitched. “No little house for you then.”

To his chagrin, Poe couldn’t help mirroring the awkward little smile. “No. No house, no wife, no two point five children. Not until Snoke’s dead and the First Order something you torture kids with in history class.”

Ren’s thumb rubbed over a chink in the rim of the sink. He left a smear of blood when he found it sharper than expected. His unsettling dark eyes settled on Poe’s face again. “So you like women then?”

Somehow it struck Poe as fitting that they hadn’t even thought to discuss this beforehand. But then again, it wasn’t like personal preferences played into their arrangement. “Both, actually, and the others, too.” Another snort. “You _would_ think that would make it easier,” he added wryly, “but it doesn’t. When you’re not looking it’s all the same.” He met Ren’s gaze for a moment. “You?”

“Same.” His lips twitched. “Also on the not looking.”

“Not many options with the First Order, huh?” Poe asked, grinning for real now.

Ren snorted. “Wait till you meet the other Knights. I didn’t believe in distractions, but some of them…”

He snickered. “Do tell Jess all about that. She’s been tormenting Finn and Rey for weeks, demanding dirt on the _naughty Force stuff_ they get up to,” Poe even made the quotation marks with his fingers, “maybe it’s time she finds her own answers.”

“It’s actually…” Okay, and there was a hint of pink to Ren’s cheeks. “It’s not as exciting as people picture it. Well, it could be exciting. But using the Force with just the right intensity takes concentration and when your focus is _elsewhere_ …”

Poe’s fingers fluttered to his temple. “Ouch.”

“Yes. Unless you practice. Or have good control. Which takes practice.”

“Not what I’d call a hardship.”

Ren looked a little bit startled again. His eyes lingered on Poe’s a little longer than was strictly necessary, or comfortable. “No. I suppose it isn’t.”

Poe could feel his own face heat up. “For someone else, that is. Someone who hasn’t been…” He made that odd turning-a-knob motion they used for mind tricks.

And just like that, Ren’s face went cold and stiff again, as if he had put on a mask even without the need for his helmet. “Of course. I wouldn’t expect anything else.”

The mood change came so sudden it left Poe feeling whiplash. He lowered his eyes, suddenly feeling distinctly uncomfortable so close to Kylo Ren, sharing intimate secrets… This was the kind of talk you would have with someone you planned on _practicing_ with.

Poe just wanted to get out of here before the restroom became too small for the both of them, even while he hated himself for constantly running from Ren.

“I should… You know…” A handwave. “Duty calls.” Ren nodded sharply. “I’d rather you wait a moment; if we’re seen leaving together on day one, that’s not the reputation we’re wanting to build.” Because making Kylo Ren respectable was what this was about, and he had to keep his priorities straight.

Since Ren remained silent, Poe turned around and opened the door, lingering only long enough to tell him, “I should be done by seven, if you want to have dinner together.”

He didn’t wait for an answer.

To be continued…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed their first reluctant steps towards their Grand Romance.
> 
> It struck me how unfair the arrangement is to Poe, who will be taking the fall for siding with a man who has previously tortured him, while Kylo only stands to gain from it. So yes, he chafes under it, but he's gonna grit his teeth and stick to the plan.
> 
> Next chapter we will be checking in with the pilots and Leia, and learn more about the state of the post-Starkiller New Republic. Also... the Knights of Ren *ominous music*


	3. Fairweather Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Knights of Ren arrive and Poe learns some concerning news about Republic power plays.
> 
> What exactly is behind the Knights' change of heart and why does nobody tell the Resistance the full story? This deal keeps looking ever fishier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to The Needs of the Many! This chapter will be focusing on the state of the galaxy at large, before we return to the far more personal dance Poe and Kylo are performing.
> 
> This is also the first chapter in which yours truly steals heavily from Legends. Expect more of this. (And btw, I wasn't kidding, if Cassian survives Rogue One, expect Cassian. After this chapter you will know why.)

_The one thing I can count on_  
Is nothing much at all  
The one thing that I'm sure about  
Is that you won't be anywhere around me when I fall  
\- “Fairweather Friend”, Emilie Autumn

They didn’t have dinner that day. He had to check on some suspicious radar blips and didn’t make it back till morning, and Poe would have been lying if he said that avoiding Ren hadn’t been the silver lining.

He did run into him while grabbing a quick breakfast before crashing, but he was with his squad, all of them equally dead on their feet yet riled up from hours upon hours of forcing themselves to be on high alert.

Poe passed by Ren, and he suddenly remembered dinner. He halted, a hand ending up on the man’s upper arm before he recalled that he may be someone who touched people a lot while talking, but not Ren. Never Ren. He was too exhausted to pull his hand back. “Sorry about dinner. I had a flight and… did flight control pass on my message?”

Ren looked like very, very startled. Uncertainty shone in his eyes as he looked up at Poe. He swallowed visibly. “Yes. Connix told me.”

He nodded. “Good. I wasn’t sure if they would but… Kaydel Ko is great.” He gave Ren’s arm another squeeze and went to join his squad.

There were questions in their eyes, but nobody felt up to fielding them now.

Poe was simply grateful for the reprieve.

 

“You’ve been getting cozy with Tall, Dark and Murderous.”

Poe looked up so fast he banged his head against the underside of Black One’s wing, but he had _not_ dropped his hydrospanner so his dignity was still somewhat intact.

“Have I?” he asked idly and made a point of going back to work.

He’d been waiting for someone to broach the topic, but he’d been hoping for Snap. Jessika was like a dog with a bone.

She gave a very unladylike snort. It was more tauntaun-like, really. “Getting flight control to cancel your dates? Seriously?”

“Maybe not one of my better moves.” At least Jess kept working on her own ship, if she were moving in for the kill she would have come closer. On the downside, that meant they had to talk loud enough for others to overhear.

“’Maybe,’ he says. Granted, I’m not sure there _is_ a good move when you’re trying to charm a sarlacc.”

Poe laughed, though it sounded strained even to his own ears. “I wouldn’t say he’s a sarlacc. More like… a rathtar. Maybe a very large rancor. But sarlacc, that would be Snoke.”

“Snoke doesn’t count. Not even you would make Snoke your project.”

“He’s not a project,” Poe protested, though he was. In a roundabout way.

Jess’ welding torch went quiet. “So what? You’re actually trying to make friends with him? For real?” she demanded incredulously. “The man’s tortured you!”

He hesitated. He would tell Finn and Rey the truth when they returned from their training trip, he’d already decided that much. He just couldn’t have them trusting Ren on his behalf, when Ren might still be gunning for them in particular. Would it be so terrible if he told Jess? But if he told Jess he would have to tell Snap and Karé, and where would he draw the line? “He’s got his redeeming qualities.”

Poe tried to think of some, he did, but the best he could come up with was along the vein of _he could have done worse to me on the Finalizer_ or _he hasn’t killed anyone on base yet_. “Have you seen these shoulders? He must be ripped.”

Testor snickered. “Yeah, right. Like you’d ever ignore a shitty personality for a pretty face.”

Poe felt guilt churn in his stomach. They thought he was better than that.

His friends were going to be so disappointed.

 

They met for breakfast again.

Third time probably made it a habit.

Finding things to talk about didn’t become easier, strictly speaking, but they figured out which topics to avoid and that was a start.

“My Knights are going to arrive today,” Ren told him on the ninth day while he was scooping out his half of some crumbly, bitter fruit which Poe didn’t know the name of. His lips were stained purple from its thick, viscous juice.

Poe rubbed at his mouth to get rid of his own makeshift lipstick, and stirred an extra spoonful of sugar into his caf. “Great.”

“They should be here by mid-afternoon.” Ren still refused to look up from his fruit. “Could you make sure the hangar is cleared for them? Ackbar said he’s not going to infringe on normal flight operations for our comfort, but I feel things would go much smoother if we could introduce them one by one, if at all.”

He nearly choked on his caf, not because the request was outrageous, but… because it wasn’t. Because this was the kind of reasonable favor you would ask from a friend. But it _was_ a reasonable request, and if people witnessed seven masked, lightsaber-wielding figures in black robes invading their home it would only make things worse.

Poe peered at Ren, but he was still avoiding his gaze. “I’ll see what I can do. I could empty out the hangar for some impromptu war games, and ask Dr Kalonia to have the ground crew in for quarterly check-ups while we’re in the air.”

He could have sworn he heard a smile in Kylo’s voice as he said, “thank you.”

 

The next morning, they didn’t have breakfast together.

Kylo didn’t come that morning, nor on the following day, or the next.

Despite his talk of not spreading panic, word spread of the Knights of Ren being seen en masse, and it predictably led to great unease, if not outright fear among the Resistance troops.

Best that Poe could figure there were never more than three or four out at once, but they were said to sweep through the base in full masked regalia, some of them carrying bizarre, brutal-looking weapons which caused even more unease than lightsabers would have.

Whatever goodwill the Resistance had managed to muster for their new allies, it was being used up on rumors before the two groups had even interacted.

Not even Luke and Rey’s return calmed people down, though they were probably the only thing preventing a full-blown panic. But they could all calculate the odds of two versus seven.

Just today, Poe had overheard flight techs speaking of the screams that came day and night from the Knights’ wing, and during lunch he’d picked up gossip about missing droids.

“I’m sure by dinner it’ll be a full-blown Dathomirian horror tale of Resistance members being kidnapped and tortured for the Knights’ amusement,” Poe told General Organa when they spoke informally after discussing fuel supply problems. There was a whole lot more flexiwork to Poe’s position than most people realized. Most people including him, the administrative hassle had been a nasty shock.

“I don’t doubt it.”

“Honestly, ma’am, it makes me want to tear my hair out. It’s like everybody’s forgotten that Kylo Ren has been living and fighting with us for months, and the worst thing that’s happened is the repair crew working overtime!”

“This is exactly what I expected”, Leia said. She looked solemn, but not overly concerned, which only worried Poe more. It was like she expected it to get _worse_. “We are trapped in an underground base, on an inhospitable planet. You can’t leave the base to stretch your legs, can’t even catch a whiff of fresh air. The Knights of Ren are the single most interesting thing to have happened since our own arrival.”

“So… what?” Poe threw his hands into the air. “Do nothing? Wait for the lynch mob?”

General Organa tapped her fingers on a flexi. “They’re going to be leaving soon, or most of them anyway. I had to fight General Cracken to get them here at all, but I wanted Resistance command to meet our new allies before they are shipped to Ryloth. He promised me two or three for the Resistance, if they’re agreeable.” Poe opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, the General explained, “I don’t trust them enough to keep them all in one place. Ideally, it’ll be Ben here, the others scattered over auxiliary bases. But make no mistake, Ben is their leader once more. That means they’ll all be coming and going wherever he is.”

And he would be where General Organa was, that didn’t need to be said.

But something else was far more alarming, it had Poe frowning in concern. “What’s Cracken got to do with this? Didn’t he used to be New Republic Intelligence?”

General Organa’s nod was very curt. “Used to be, and is again, after NRI headquarters was wiped out along with the entire active leadership.”

It was Poe’s turn to nod. The destruction of the Hosnian system hadn’t destroyed the New Republic, but it had brought about a stark change in leadership. With the current elite wiped out except for a lucky few, power had been seized by retired veterans and third or fourth-rate officials stationed off-world.

It was no surprise that a respected veteran like General Airen Cracken would be asked to take the reins of the intelligence service, when even disgraced has-beens like Ransolm Casterfo were suddenly in high demand. The optimist in Poe wanted to believe it could be a new beginning for the corrupt, overly bureaucratic Republic, but fact was that many of the people who hadn’t been in power under the old guard, had been denied such power for good reasons.

Poe’s frown deepened. “I thought the Knights of Ren had been recruited by the Senate. Weren’t they Casterfo’s project?”

“That’s how it was sold to the Resistance,” the General said grimly, “but what I learned from the Knights tells a different story. The Knights of Ren were recruited by the NRI, and act under NRI authority.”

Poe groaned as he leaned back in his chair, fingers going to rub at his temples. “It keeps getting better and better. So what? We get Force users, but they aren’t even part of our command structure?” He snorted. “Not that anybody has told us yet what _our_ command structure is.”

The Resistance had been reintegrated into the New Republic Starfleet. Of a sort. They still had their own leaders and uniforms, their own bases and supply lines, and their liaison was Senate instead of Fleet.

Nobody knew what would happen when it came to the inevitable disagreement with Fleet Command. There were quite a few people in the Republic, and in the Resistance, who thought of the Resistance as the Senate’s private military beholden to no one but their democratically elected officials, or at least a unique fourth military branch within the Combined Defense Forces, equal to Starfleet, Army and Special Forces.

And now they had the Knights of Ren, who were part of yet another, wholly _different_ branch of security, on top of having their own internal hierarchy. While the NRI used uniforms and military ranks, they were part of the civilian administration, reporting directly to the General Ministry.

“This is going to be a bureaucratic nightmare. As soon as there’s an actual conflict, the command structure is going to be such a mess we’ll be lucky if we can even get our fighters off the ground,” Poe said, still massaging his temples. It did nothing to help his headache.

General Organa looked like she wanted to agree, though she had more self-control than that. “I know. I wasn’t happy about it either, or that we still don’t know the terms of the agreement. I keep being told it’s classified. I’d suspected they were recruited by Intelligence, but I was hoping for Fleet Intelligence.”

He shuddered. “Not better. FI has this habit of commandeering Fleet ships when they feel like it. Can you imagine the mayhem if a Knight of Ren tried to seize command of a Resistance base? We’d have a mutiny on our hands.”

“True.” She sighed. The General put down the flexi she had been holding on to the entire time. She gave Poe a wry grin. “Sometimes I miss our outlaw days.”

He couldn’t help laughing. “Me, too. Being brushed off as paranoid warmongers wasn’t _that_ bad, all things considered.”

“And yet we are lucky to have a thriving government right after the First Order believed the Republic destroyed.”

“Snoke’s got to learn that _nothing_ can kill off a suitably determined bureaucracy.”

They shared a chuckle, and some comfortable silence while General Organa sorted out her flexi piles, and Poe massaged away his tension headache.

But as fun as talking horror scenarios had been, there was no ignoring the tauntaun in the room.

“So, what are we going to do about the masked spooks then?”

The General looked up, gazing at him pensively. “I was planning to involve Ben in this. I feel they won’t respond well to us making decisions for them.”

Which was how the Resistance worked, the people in charge made decisions, Poe thought bitterly. But of course they were already making exceptions for their volatile new allies. This was bound to go well.

“I’d like for you to speak to him,” the General continued. Poe opened his mouth to protest, but she silenced him with a raised hand. “Everybody understands their integration is of personal interest to me, but I can’t be seen favoring them. They’ve yet to have had a single amiable encounter with Luke and Rey. But Ben likes you. Come up with a plan, and if you need help, you know where to find me. I just can’t spend my time playing host while we have a hundred urgent issues.”

He was reminded of the time right after Kylo Ren’s arrival, and the outrage that he had gotten away with a slap on the wrist. There had been a lot of whispers about General Organa being compromised. If Casterfo hadn’t taken the brunt of the anger…

Poe stood up. “I’ll see what I can do. No promises, but… I’ll try.”

Leia Organa’s smile looked tired, but it was the only incentive Poe needed.

To be continued…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the politics lesson wasn't too boring! I promise all of this will become relevant farther down the road.
> 
> Next chapter Poe and Kylo will be reunited, and we meet the Knights of Ren.


	4. Cats and Mice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe gets his first glimpse at the Knights of Ren, loses some certainties, and almost plays sabacc.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here is chapter four, and we finally get a glimpse at the mysterious Knights. They're what has me most nervous about this chapter, since I've gone for a take which I haven't seen a lot of yet.

_And if you're ever around_  
_In the city or the suburbs_  
_Of this town_  
_Be sure to come around_  
_\- “Pierrot the Clown”, Placebo_

There were no screams of pain as Poe approached the guest quarters, or rather, what had been an unused, out-of-the-way wing of it built in the hope that the Resistance would continue to grow. Or maybe it had just been planners going giddy with the possibilities at their fingertips, now that they were finally flush with government funds.

Either way, Poe hadn’t heard a single noise since he chatted with the guards at the end of the long, narrow hallway, and he was just about ready to decide this was creepy when he came to the other security door at the end of the hallway.

Okay, he decided, maybe this was more of a very fancy prison. It shouldn’t matter to the Knights, since durasteel and armed guards wouldn’t stand a chance against lightsabers.

There were still no screams, but the lights flickered ominously. Somebody had to check the lights before rumors of hauntings got added to the list.

Poe’s hand hovered over the panel, General Organa’s entrance code at the forefront of his mind. Instead, his thumb went for the door buzzer.

His finger never reached the button before the heavy durasteel doors opened with a hydraulic hiss.

Poe frowned. Okay, what exactly was this? Doors like this, it looked like a prison and nothing like guest quarters. The only question was, if they weren’t trying to keep the Knights in, whom were they trying to keep out?

A good question to ask General Organa when he reported to her, but for now Poe found himself confronted with a masked figure swathed in black not unlike Kylo Ren’s, but this one was smaller and shorter. The mask sported a grill pattern that reminded him of protective face gear in sports.

Poe went for his most dashing smile. “Hello, that’s a lovely mask you’re wearing. Consider me properly scared already!”

Silence.

“Oh!” Poe amped up the smile another notch. Smile with your eyes and all that. “I’m Commander Poe Dameron, it’s a pleasure.” He thrust out his hand.

The masked Knight tilted his… her? their head to the left, uncannily reminding Poe of Kylo Ren’s mannerism. He still did the same sometimes, forgetting that you could read the puzzlement on his face when he wasn’t wearing a mask. Somehow, this Knight managed to show how unimpressed they were without saying anything at all.

“Or… not. Not shaking hands is okay, I don’t mind. Me, I’m a touch person, but I respect personal space bubbles.”

The Knight turned on their heel and Poe followed down the hallway, faltering for a moment when he heard the blast doors close behind him. When he turned back around, it was just in time to see the Knight turn to the left…

…and disappear through a doorway.

When Poe tried to follow, the door remained stubbornly closed.

He stood there, dumbfounded for a moment, till his eyes found the plaque. Quarters. Oh. The Knight had returned to their room.

And here he stood, in the middle of a deserted hallway, with ominously flickering lights and not a single scream to be heard.

“Oookay…”

This wasn’t weird.

Alright. It was weird. And vaguely creepy.

“Note to self, Kylo’s got his poodoo manners from his friends,” Poe muttered under his breath, stuck somewhere between amusement and, well, being creeped out. Just a bit annoyed, too, because honestly, he wasn’t here to play some inane game of hide-and-seek with mass murderers.

Being alone had an advantage, though, and that was having the time to look around. This wing was built exactly like all the other crew quarters on base, which meant there would be a common room just… down this hallway, to the right and yes, here, at the end of the hallway.

And indeed, the low murmur of voices seeped through the doors.

The doors opened automatically for Poe, revealing a common room exactly identical to the pilots’ before they had personalized it, with ugly orange couches, the floor a shade of vivid green which looked good only on Twi’lek skin, and five black-clad figures looking very displaced amidst their colorful surroundings.

None of them wore masks, a fact which hit Poe fully as soon as ten eyes turned on him.

The Sullustan looked at him as if he was something she had found stuck under her shoe, while the Mirialan smirked.

“You aren’t human!” Poe blurted out before he could censor himself.

“It’s precious, can I keep it?” the Mirialan asked, and Poe stiffened in confused indignation.

Kylo Ren leaped up from his crouched position, dumping his playing cards face down with a snarl of, “don’t you dare peek, I’ll cut off your fingers,” and stormed towards Poe.

He had disturbed a game of cards.

The Knights of Ren played cards… for something which looked distinctly like the Wookie candy that had gone missing from the commissary.

The Knights did _normal people things_.

Poe felt dizzy.

Ren hauled him outside by the arm, he really had to stop doing that, and the door to the bizarre scene within closed behind them.

Nothing had ever been as comforting to Poe as the abandoned hallway with flickering lights.

“There were always non-humans in the Empire’s service, if they were specially gifted,” Kylo Ren explained briskly as he leaned against the wall. “While Darth Vader was human, most of the Inquisitors were not. It seemed only sensible to continue this tradition. As long as it can be hidden by a helmet it makes no difference to us. The soldiers will see whatever they want to see.” Kylo paused. His brows furrowed. “Would see.” For the first time today, he seemed uncomfortable. “I suppose it doesn’t matter now. I’m free to recruit as many Harch as I want.”

Poe did not know what to say.

Well. He had a lot to say. Such as how any non-human could stomach working for the First Order with its disgusting human supremacy, and if Kylo Ren wasn’t ashamed of himself for asking that of them.

Belay that. He had nothing _polite_ to say.

“You missed the Pantoran and the Cathar,” Ren offered, as if that made it better.

Was it a very stupid impulse, wanting to punch Ren right here in the rancor’s den? The answer was bound to be _yes_.

“Why?”

Ren scowled. He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Don’t ask questions if you know the answer will just offend your sanctimonious sensibilities.”

They stood there in the empty hallway, staring at another as if it were some kind of stand-off.

Ren looked away first.

“Your mother sent me,” Poe blurted out. Ren’s face turned into an expressionless mask, and Poe realized it had been the wrong opening. Kriff.

“That’s nice. I have a game to win.”

“Wait!” Poe grasped the frayed edge of Ren’s cowl, and the man stopped. He didn’t know what he would have done if he hadn’t. Probably taken on five Knights at once, since that was the kind of reckless stunt he would pull.

“What’s wrong with you anyway?” Poe demanded. “I thought we had a plan, I thought…” They hadn’t interacted unless it was for the benefit of their audience, but they’d been civil to another. They’d gone through the motions of something that could have been mistaken for friendship, if you disregarded their history. “You haven’t been to breakfast in days.” He hated himself for sounding hurt.

Ren did not turn around. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides. They uncurled very, very slowly. Ren spread his fingers wide as if he had something to prove to himself. “Do you play Sabacc?”

 

The common room was empty, only the abandoned cards betrayed that the bizarre scene he had burst in on was no figment of his imagination.

Poe smiled awkwardly. “I guess we’ll have to postpone that game.” He didn’t have to fake his regret. Playing a game based on bluffs against five mind readers wasn’t what he would call good odds, but he was as curious about the men and women behind the masks as everyone else on base.

Kylo Ren gathered up the cards and shuffled them.

“I don’t think Sabacc works as a game for two,” Poe said quietly.

That earned him a quick glance, but Ren kept shuffling even as he sat down. Poe still felt supremely awkward as he perched on the couch across from him.

“But we can try, if you like,” he amended awkwardly.

Ren just kept shuffling, even after any need for it had passed. Poe popped a piece of candy into his mouth and chewed noisily.

“That was from Mazin’s winnings.”

“Sorry,” Poe lied cheerfully and kept chewing. Mazin Ren. Okay. He had two names and a list of species. This counted as progress.

Idly, Poe wondered why General Organa hadn’t shared this information with him. No, that wasn’t quite right. He should have asked her instead of going in blind, arrogantly assuming that he knew everything there was to know about the Knights of Ren. He got it now, why the General was risking so much to have her people meet the Knights in person.

“Why are you here?” Still shuffling. Still not looking up.

Poe picked up another piece of candy – he vowed to make it up to Mazin Ren if he ever spoke to them – but he just rolled this one around between his fingers. “The base is in an uproar over your friends. Everybody’s expecting to be slaughtered in their beds.” No sense in softening the blow, Kylo Ren wouldn’t appreciate coddling.

“I never slaughtered anyone in their bed. I killed the Jedi by daylight.”

“Okay!” Poe leaped up from the couch and angrily popped the piece of candy into his mouth. He chewed on it – angrily, too. “This kind of talk right there? This is why people don’t like you! _This_ is why people expect you to fry them alive with your laser eyes!”

Ren finally stopped shuffling. “It’s not my problem if you can’t take the truth.”

It would be foolishly reckless to pick a fight, but Poe’s ability to care kept decreasing with every minute. He flopped down on the couch again and shot him a dirty look. He kept chewing angrily. “You’re not even trying, Ren.”

Ren placed the cards on the table, face down. “True.”

Poe shook his head, he snorted in frustration. “I don’t understand you. We were trying. And it was working, Ren! People were getting used to you. After all these months we were making progress. And then your friends arrived and… just…” He waved his hands around. “Everything.”

Ren frowned. “Maybe I remembered who I am. I wasted months on placating the Resistance, but it didn’t get me anywhere. They trust me no more than on the day I arrived. I’m done trying. I don’t need to be liked to do my work.”

“So… That’s it then? Our plans are nil, since you’d rather be hated?” He shouldn’t feel wounded, Poe knew he had no right or reason to feel wounded.

And how was he supposed to get Ren’s support for acclimatizing the Knights of Ren now? Poe hadn’t been prepared for this obstacle. He’d assumed they’d be working on this as a team. What a fool he had been.

“I’ll always be hated. It doesn’t make a difference.” While he kept his face neutral, scorn lurked at the corners of his dark eyes. “Do you think your comrades are so shallow as to forget the blood on my hands?” His lips curled into a sneer. “You said it yourself. You couldn’t bear my touch.”

Poe’s own lips pressed together into a thin line as he struggled to hold back all the angry words that would only make a bad situation worse. General Organa was going to be so disappointed. “Don’t make this about me. These are your hang-ups. I’ve been playing my part.” He rubbed his hand over his face. “Kriff, I thought…”

“You thought what?” Ren’s voice had softened.

Poe just shook his head. “It doesn’t matter anymore.” Like hell he was going to tell Ren that he’d almost been ready to try a friendship for real. That he’d _enjoyed_ their breakfast chats, awkwardness of upcoming love story aside. Ren sure wasn’t a cheerful person, but he had a black humor which made Poe laugh more than once, and his delightfully acerbic commentary gave Poe an insight into what General Organa might have been like before command forced her to censor herself.

They spent long minutes in silence, carefully avoiding another’s eyes, until Ren broke down and asked, “Why are you here?”

“Your mother asked me to, I wasn’t kidding about that. Or about people being afraid of being slaughtered in their sleep. The entire base is in an uproar over your Knights.” Poe shrugged. “I was sent to talk to you and figure out how we can get our people to mingle. When I came here I was going to ask you to bring one or two of them to the pilots’ lounge tonight. Have a drink, watch a holofilm… Normal people things to show they’re just regular folks like you and me beneath the masks. But now?” Another half-shrug. He’d counted on Ren’s support. _Everything_ hinged on his support.

“I’ll send them.”

“But you won’t come.” Poe felt another unwelcome pang. He decided to ignore it.

“No. It’s better if I don’t.”

Not for the first time, Poe felt the urge to ask what he had done wrong. Just like every other time he decided he wouldn’t ask. This wasn’t about him, and he refused to take the blame.

“Okay.” It wasn’t okay. But there was nothing he could do about Ren trying to play the martyr. Maybe he would listen to his mother, or to Casterfo, but he’d made quite clear what he thought of Poe.

He’d almost made it to the door when Ren said, “Dameron.” He stopped, but didn’t turn around. “Poe.” His voice had softened. Poe felt a shiver run down his spine. He didn’t think Kylo Ren had called him by his first name ever before. “I’m sorry.”

“Me, too.”

He left.

To be continued

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So non-human Knights of Ren. My perception of the Knights has been heavily influenced by the Inquisitors in Rebels, and one of the most interesting aspects of them is that these enforcers of the humans-first Empire are mostly aliens, under a human commander (Vader) - more poignantly for our real world interests, male/white/human at that. 
> 
> Then there's also that one of my TFA pet peeves is the lack of aliens.
> 
> Since until proven otherwise, I assume the First Order to be just as specieist as the Empire, this serves to put another divide between the KoR and the FO military - a safeguard for Snoke that they won't unite against him. It's also sure to do Things to their loyalty towards a cause which would see them and people like them robbed of their rights. So one question to ask is, when were these specific Knights recruited, and by whom? Poe is guaranteed to wonder, once he overcomes his shock.
> 
> tl;dr: I just thought it'd be an interesting twist on not knowing what lies beneath the masks.


	5. Parley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Next Sabacc night with Dark Side adepts Poe is calling in sick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are again, folks! I was stuck on a detail for this chapter, but KoR concept art on my dash gave me the push to solve this problem. 
> 
> Speaking of dash, if you're interested, my [references tag](http://cynical-harlequin.tumblr.com/tagged/nm) for this fic has some pictures of the lesser-known alien races, and FCs for the humans. My line-up consists of four ladies (Sullustan, human, Cathar, Pantoran) and three men (two human, Mirialan.) It's doubtful they'll all be named, let alone have speaking parts, since I don't want to make this story too OC-centric.

_Tact is the ability to tell someone to go to hell in such a way that they look forward to the trip.  
\- Winston Churchill_

 

True to Kylo Ren’s word, two new faces walked into the pilots’ common room that night.

Helmets aside, they wore their full Knights of Ren garb.

The woman’s skin and hair were nearly as dark as her robes, while the man was a little bit lighter-skinned than Poe himself. His black hair was elaborately tousled in that just-rolled-out-of-bed style that took an hour to achieve, while hers was braided in tiny delicate cornrows, tied together in a bun at the back of her head. Fantastic hair had to be a Knights thing, Poe decided. They looked about Kylo’s age, maybe a little younger. He vaguely remembered seeing both at the Sabacc game.

At least Kylo had sent him the human members of his team. There were only so many shocks people could take at once.

The pilots went silent as soon as they noticed the new arrivals.

This was not how Poe had wanted it to go. When he’d come up with the plan for a games night, he’d still counted on introducing his friends to his alleged crush’s friends. That would have been normal and casual. This unwarranted intrusion only made hackles rise all around him.

Poe found himself wishing for the annoying Mirialan. Maybe the sheer shock of alien Knights would have outweighed the hostility.

“Hey,” Poe said as he rose from the couch, where he’d sat between Iolo and Karé. The easy smile didn’t come so easily to him, but as bad as his acting skills were, he had plenty of experience trying to keep up morale. “You must be… Kylo didn’t mention your names. Sorry.” Again, he offered his hand. “I’m Poe Dameron.”

“The infamous Poe Dameron!” the man crowed. He pumped Poe’s hand enthusiastically. “You’re the one who blew up Starkiller!”

Awkward.

_Awkward_.

Poe forced a chuckle. “Heh, look at that, Iolo, I’m famous.” He used the opportunity to throw a glance back at his comrades, and make sure nobody had drawn their blaster.

“Kylo’s been talking about you all the time,” the male Knight said, voice pitched to a stage whisper. His eyes sparkled mischievously. “When he asked for volunteers to meet you, there’s no way I could have turned it down. And since I’m nice like that, I volunteered my solemn friend here, too!” He draped an arm over the woman’s shoulder. “Smile for the security cams, Red.”

‘Red’ didn’t smile. She looked supremely uncomfortable, though Poe couldn’t tell if it was with her companion or with them. She had to be Vanis Ren, the only human woman among the Knights according to the General’s notes.

Poe forced another chuckle. “Take a seat. Snap was just trying to convince Jess that she wants to watch Deep Space Rathtars IV. But Iolo, that’s Iolo here, Captain Iolo Arana and Captain Karé Kun, he was talking about a round of Sabacc if we could get enough players. Would you like to help us out?” Before Iolo could protest that he had been saying no such thing, Poe silenced him with a Look. He had been learning from General Organa.

There was the normal round of awkward handshakes. Vanis Ren still hadn’t said a word, but she smiled at Karé. Poe was beginning to wonder if she was mute, though silently protesting her unwilling presence was far more likely.

Poe wasn’t going to risk small talk, so he started the game. He was going to murder Kylo Ren.

Vanis remained stubbornly silent, but it turned out that Mazin Ren talked enough for two – maybe even for seven.

It didn’t take long for the man to have drawn a crowd. He was an engaging storyteller, full of jokes and clever quips, and the ability to make people forget that he was their enemy.

His companion was soon forgotten by all but Poe. He didn’t miss how attentive she was underneath her façade of boredom. Poe found himself wondering just how far the Force’s mindreading powers went. Maybe it had been a mistake not inviting Rey.

It went like this for about two hours – Mazin holding court, Vanis watching, and Poe watching Vanis.

Vanis stood up all of a sudden and went over to Mazin, who had relocated to a wobbly kitchen table for a game of dice. She leaned down, they whispered for a moment. She seemed to be saying her goodbyes.

To Poe’s complete surprise, Vanis stopped by the couch, flashed him a conspiratorial grin, and whispered, “don’t worry, next time Kylo pulls a stunt like this I’m yanking his guts out through his nose.” She winked. “Close your mouth before you catch flies, pretty boy.”

Poe snapped his mouth shut like the good obedient soldier he was.

 

Poe’s suspicion that Red had been reading their minds only grew, for right after she left the pilots started to disperse as well. She had known exactly when she could leave without missing anything.

Eventually, even the dice game ended, and Poe realized he was the only one left.

The hinges of Mazin’s chair squeaked every time he tipped it back and forth. It was a grating sound in the unnatural silence of the common room.

“You don’t like me.”

There was something so personable about Mazin Ren that it gave Poe a feeling of vertigo. When he spoke, his dark-brown eyes were warm, bright and completely focused on the person he spoke to, and his black-gloved hands moved tirelessly. Everything about him was animated, unlike the tightly coiled rage of Kylo Ren.

He wasn’t what you would expect from a Darksider, let alone from a Knight of Ren, and you’d have to be more jaded than Poe not to like him.

“But I do like you.” Poe flashed the man a smile as bright and charming as his own, only he didn’t bother to hide the sharp edges. “That’s why I don’t trust you.”

“Ah.”

Squeak – squeak – squeak – squeeeaaaak.

Alarm flickered quickly in the man’s eyes when his chair tipped back dangerously far, and while Poe couldn’t sense the Force, he would have bet Black One that he used it to keep himself from toppling backwards. A coil of discomfort pulled taut in Poe’s belly as he was reminded of a conference table, and Kylo Ren steadying Poe’s chair.

Poe still felt like squirming. “You’ve been slaughtering our people for years. You’ve been serving a genocidal, xenophobic maniac who wants to oppress the galaxy. What’s there not to trust?”

The Knight shrugged lazily. “I joined the Knights of Ren, not the First Order. The Order was… a necessary evil.” For the first time he showed some earnestness; frustration tinged his voice. “Snoke was our Master, and he wished for us to serve the First Order. We thought we needed Snoke, that we would be nothing without him. Then Kylo left. We were told he had sacrificed everything for sentiment. But he grew _stronger_ freed from the Supreme Leader’s yoke. And he offered us a way out.”

Poe pursed his lips. It sounded reasonable enough. Nobody, not even Darksiders, liked to be treated callously. It was the nature of every sentient being to yearn for freedom. Weren’t both the Rebel Alliance and the Resistance based on this firm conviction?

“But you still don’t like us,” Mazin noted.

Poe shook his head. “I still think you’re going to betray us.” There was a big difference between these two things.

“Fair enough.” Mazin stood up so suddenly that Poe couldn’t help tensing. His easy-going smile never faltered. “You’re going to betray Kylo first, so I think we can just about call it even.”

Poe froze, hands full with empty bottles. He’d traded clean-up duty with Jess, since he had to stay last anyway, what with not trusting this Ren around his pilots. “Is that why Kylo did the complete turnabout?” he asked tightly. “Because you convinced him I was only trying to stab him in the back?”

“Weren’t you?” The man still sounded so kriffing amiable.

“Maybe you’ve forgotten what it’s like to be surrounded by decent people, but outside the First Order the galaxy’s full of them.”

“Maybe. But you’re a killer just like us. And Kylo doesn’t need more people messing with his head.”

That was so twisted, Poe didn’t even know where to start. But it sure explained a lot.

 

He didn’t get the chance to call Kylo Ren out on it until three days later, when they attended the same strategy meeting.

“Do you have a moment, Ren?” Poe asked while everybody was still gathering up their flexis. With half a dozen Resistance leaders listening, Kylo had no choice but to say yes.

He was scowling when the others had left, and honestly, Poe did feel a little bit bad about it – especially now, with Ren giving him these death glares, everything in his body language saying that he was determined to make this difficult.

“I’m sorry,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “That was a dirty trick, but these days it’s impossible to catch you without your friends.”

He’d seen him at a distance once or twice, always accompanied by a group of masked figures. When he’d mentioned it to General Organa, she’d looked conspicuously unsurprised, and very sad.

Kylo scowled. “Speak.”

Prompted like this, Poe couldn’t recall any of the points he’d had lined up in his mind.

“Your Mom’s looking sad. Have you been talking to her at all lately?”

Ren’s scowl darkened. “You may be her favorite son, but you’re not _actually_ part of this family.”

Poe’s eyes bugged out.

“Woah woah woah woah, now just wait a minute, Ren!” He raised both hands. “Where did _that_ come from?!”

“Tell me it isn’t so,” Ren insisted, “tell me she wouldn’t rather have you for a son.”

“No! Because I’m not even going to… That is insane! Your Mom loves you, she took you back after you spent years mass murdering your way across the galaxy!” How dare he even question General Organa, after all she had done for him? It boggled Poe’s mind. He shook his head. “How long have you been nursing this grudge against me?” What the hell. Might as well. “What I’m trying to say is, before or after your Knights arrived? Because I don’t know who you are, but you’re not the man I spent the last year working with.”

“It hasn’t been a year.”

“Months, year, that’s not the point!” Poe stood up, leaning over the table with his hands gripping the edge of the tabletop. “Kriffing hell, Ren, can’t you see you’re ruining everything you’ve worked for?!”

“What I see,” Ren gritted out, “is the Resistance’s displeasure that I’m no longer isolated and forced to bend to your every whim just to ensure my survival.”

“Your… your survival?!” Poe couldn’t help a sharp bark of laughter, screw not angering the lightsaber-wielding maniac. “You didn’t even spend a month in detention – detention here on base, mind you, not the high-security prison for war criminals you should have been in – before you were granted a position of power in the Resistance and official amnesty! You run around in our base in your First Order uniform, wielding the lightsaber with which you slaughtered our people, you interact freely with people you’ve kidnapped and tortured, you’re even getting training to become an even better killer, and you’re complaining about your safety!”

“Yes, Dameron. Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.” Ren had gotten up as well, and suddenly he was very close. There were only two chairs left between them, and he kept advancing. Poe refused to budge. “Don’t tell me you didn’t like seeing me as good as neutered.” He smiled sharply. “Don’t tell me you didn’t get a kick out of it… Did you ever wonder if they’d let you come into my cell and _interrogate_ me? Did you ever wonder if they’d let the scavenger tear into my mind as I tore into hers? No? Because I did wonder.”

“So?” Poe stubbornly lifted his chin up, though he felt nausea churn in his stomach. Of course he’d wondered, and he’d been sickened by his own thoughts. He’d decided years ago that he would never become this person, but it was harder on some days. That Ren knew only added fuel to his sickness. “You were worried that people would do to you what you had done to them. If you’re waiting for sympathy, you’ll be waiting for a while.”

Ren was right there in front of him. The tips of their boots touched. Poe had to tilt his head back to keep meeting his eyes. For a fleeting, crazy moment he thought that they would stand exactly like this if Ren were to kiss him.

“I know. But I’m done waiting.”

“So what then? You’re going to keep pushing everyone away?”

“It’s worked in the past.”

“No. No, it really, really hasn’t. It’s ruined your life and your parents’ lives,” Poe gulped, “and if that’s the path you’re going to walk again then I’m glad you broke our thing off, because I’m not going to let you drag me down as well.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

Poe plopped back down and crossed his arms in front of his chest. If BB-8 were here right now it would laugh at him for looking childish, but he honestly didn’t care. He wanted to feel childish. He wanted to sulk. This was sulk-worthy.

He waited for Ren to say or do something, but as usual the anticipated olive branch never came.

“I think you should leave.”

Kylo Ren looked at him for long moments, but he didn’t say another word before he turned on his heel and left.

Poe took some grim satisfaction in the fact that just for once, he hadn’t been the one sent running.

His satisfaction didn’t last long.

With Kylo gone, and his indignant anger cooling, the words Poe had wanted to say came easily to him.

_You can trust me. I’m not your enemy._ That’s what he’d wanted to say.

He groaned. So much for that.

To be continued…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's what's been up with Kylo. I did say his buddies are gonna cause trouble, didn't I? Trouble will continue in the next chapter... and we will finally get Rey and Finn screen time! I feel so bad that they didn't show up earlier!


	6. In Times of Calm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe has a chat with Finn and Rey, and learns of a new mission with his least favorite partner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's been a while since the last update, guys. Prompt-a-thon kept me busy in October and I wanted to keep a buffer of at least one complete chapter for this story, but in the end I decided I couldn't make you wait any longer. As a result the next update might be a while in coming again, but I love this story far too much to give it up.

_It’s the calm before the storm_

Poe had always known the questions would come. The only amazing thing about it was that Rey contained herself until Finn was back from his training seminar.

“Just you wait, buddy, soon enough I’ll be saluting and calling you General,” Poe declared when his friend was done explaining what he had learned on Coruscant. To Poe it all sounded terribly bland and boring. He had a good head for strategies involving his birds in the air, but for all that he knew they were vital to the war effort, troop movements and supply route management just couldn’t excite him.

Finn, though, Finn lived for that large-scale strategical stuff that all came down to playing holochess with the galaxy as your board. The more statistics and analyses and simulations involved, the better. Now that the Resistance was integrated into the New Republic military, he had access to the training programs which would put him on the fast-track to becoming one of their leaders. Poe was happy for him, really, he was just very glad this had fallen on Finn and not him.

“He’s a Major now,” Rey said and fussed over Finn’s rank insignia. There was so much love and pride gleaming in her eyes when she looked at him that if they had been any other couple, Poe would have teased them mercilessly.

These two, though, they had had to suffer so much, they deserved all the tooth-rotting couple cuteness in the galaxy.

“I take it that’s pretty good with you groundpounders?” Poe asked innocently.

Since they were so darn cute he would make due with only teasing one of them at a time.

Finn laughed so hard that he choked on his Ebla beer.

“Okay, okay, I’m much better, thanks, Rey,” he said after his girlfriend had whacked him on the back. He still held a hand over his mouth to stifle the occasional cough. Poe grinned when he ended up slinging his other arm around Rey’s neck and pulling her close again.

His good-natured smile only widened when his friends predictably ended up in a tangle of arms and legs. This was exactly why they always sat on the floor for their little get-togethers, these two were like puppies. He leaned back against the couch and stretched out his legs. He sipped on his own beer while he waited for his friends to sort themselves out.

Just like every time they were together, and Rey and Finn looked so utterly in love and in tune with another, Poe felt a twinge of wistfulness.

It wasn’t that he was lonely, not exactly, Poe had a large, loud, nosy family in his pilots and another, smaller one in Rey and Finn, it was just… He took another sip. Yeah. Maybe he was lonely. It wasn’t obvious, he didn’t even think about it often, but when he was with Finn and Rey or with the other couples among his friends he was reminded that there was nobody telling him, “careful, your elbows are pointy!” or “thanks, I just got a mouthful of hair” and when they were tired, he returned alone to his empty quarters.

He suddenly recalled his chat with Ren, about how other people their age thought of starting a family and buying a house. Unless tragedy befell them, there was no way his friends wouldn’t be happily married by the time they were Poe’s age. He could only hope the war would be over by then, and they wouldn’t have to choose between the war and their family like Poe’s own parents had to.

“Poe?” Rey’s voice was gentle, and concerned. “Are you okay?”

He flashed them a cocky grin. “Yeah, fine. I was just thinking about what a dashing best man I’ll make at your wedding.” He chuckled when Rey turned pink and Finn had another coughing fit. He really hoped they would get their happy end. They’d had far too many years stolen by the galaxy’s cruelties already.

There was some more hemming and hawing, right until Rey got that glint in her eyes that spelled trouble. “What’s it with the gossip I heard about you hanging out with Ren, anyway?”

It was Poe’s turn to choke. Dignified Commander of the New Republic’s bravest that he was, he forced himself to keep chewing on his handful of snacks as if he wasn’t choking on thin air. His friends didn’t look fooled in the slightest.

“Yeah, when I got back I heard the same,” Finn chimed in in vile betrayal. “Everybody said you're cozy while I was gone, but I haven’t seen you together once.”

Poe popped another handful of roasted nuts into his mouth and chewed languidly, his only response was a lazy shrug. He drank some more beer. Rey gave him The Look. Her Look was better than his. Damn it. “Because it’s already over by the time you got back. I don’t know what crawled up his ass and died, but he’s…” He threw his hands up in the air. “I don’t even know.”

He eyed first Finn, then Rey. Did he really need to tell them of the plan? It was dead, Ren had been very clear on that, and then Poe had unwittingly danced on its grave. He’d only be upsetting them needlessly.

“The General asked me to play nice with him in public, so we had breakfast a couple of times, but now that his friends are here he’s back to his usual charming self.”

“Oh. I’m glad.” Rey gave them a chagrined smile. “Not that I think he’s an awful person…”

It was Poe’s turn to shoot her a Look, and even Finn looked incredulous. Rey didn’t seem to mind working and training with Ren, but he would never buy that she didn’t agree Ren was awful. He made a special effort to be awful, and his special effort was employee of the month-worthy.

She flushed at being caught in her obvious lie. “But I’m glad you don’t spend time with him anymore.”

Poe gulped. “Me, too.”

Rey nodded. “It’s not that I don’t trust him in battle, but I don’t trust him with you.”

Poe squirmed some more and averted his eyes. Maybe Rey had heard more rumors than she let on.

Now it was Finn’s turn to shift uneasily. “Speaking of Ren… You’re going to hate me for this, Poe, and strictly speaking I’m not even allowed to tell you before the meeting tomorrow, but.” He grimaced. “It feels wrong dumping this on you with no warning whatsoever, what with your history with Ren…”

He had tensed as soon as Finn spoke up, and now Poe was all but vibrating with tension. “But what? Just tell me, Finn, it can’t be that bad.”

“I need you on my next mission? And I think the General wants you with Ren?”

Was this a bad time to inform Finn that Ren wanted to kill him on sight now?

Poe groaned, head hitting the couch as he threw it back. So much for a nice evening with his friends. “I was wrong. It is that bad.”

 

After the mission briefing the next day, Poe still couldn’t quite tell why this plan required him to go with Kylo Ren, or why it required Kylo Ren at all.

He suspected the answer to the latter was that General Organa wanted to get him away from the other Knights. As for the former, he really didn’t want to think about it too closely anymore once he’d heard of Casterfo’s involvement. In hindsight, the only thing that surprised Poe about this was that he was surprised at all.

He should have known the bigwigs wouldn’t stop pushing the propaganda couple idea just because their pawns were uncomfortable with it. But if he kept pushing it… Well, Poe would do nothing, actually, but he would let Casterfo brave Kylo Ren’s moods the next time. Poe had done his duty, making this work wasn’t his responsibility anymore.

Either way, Finn’s mission was far too important to mess up with their personal drama.

The NRI had identified the location of another Stormtrooper training facility. It was a crèche facility, holding children between five and ten years of age. Their contacts spoke of up to 2000 children. It wasn’t much compared to the sheer number of troops they faced, but after Republican forces conquered two major training compounds right in the first hours of official warfare, the First Order had adapted. They hadn’t been able to liberate a single child since.

“I don’t care that you hate me,” Poe told Kylo when he stopped him once again after the meeting, “you don’t even have to look at me or talk to me beyond what is necessary. But we’ll be saving lives, and I don’t want it jeopardized because things are weird between us.”

Kylo Ren was scowling as usual, but he didn’t look angry anymore. “It won’t. I’m as professional as you are.”

And there it was again, that irrational pang of hurt. Somehow he’d counted on Ren saying that he didn’t hate him. He should have known better. “Good. That… That’s good. I can work with that. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Tomorrow.”

He was already halfway down the corridor when Ren called, “Dameron, wait. Would you like to have lunch?”

Poe halted, but didn’t turn around. He shook his head. “You haven’t got anything to prove, Ren. Have a nice day.”

To be continued…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will have our errant heroes spending some quality alone time on the way to their mission. Fun fun...


	7. Limbo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three days shut in together on a shuttle should be enough to break the stalemate, but they're stuck in limbo, and Poe still can't figure out what's going on in Kylo's head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is shorter than I'd intended for it to be, but I didn't want to keep you waiting any longer. So here's one last update for 2016, enjoy!

_limbo, noun lim·bo \ˈlim-(ˌ)bō\_

_1 often capitalized : an abode of souls that are according to Roman Catholic theology barred from heaven because of not having received Christian baptism_  
_2_  
 _a : a place or state of restraint or confinement_  
 _b : a place or state of neglect or oblivion <proposals kept in limbo>_  
 _c : an intermediate or transitional place or state_  
 _d : a state of uncertainty_

“Look, if you are going to ignore me for our entire mission these are going to be very long three days,” Poe pointed out as he sat down across from Kylo Ren in the ship lounge.

He sipped on his caf, and grimaced. It was bitter, he liked his with plenty of Christophsian sugar, but he hadn’t wanted to waste time searching for sugar. This was the first time since takeoff that Kylo Ren had left his quarters, he wasn’t going to squander his chance for sweet caf.

Ren looked up from his lunch just long enough to pluck a small white bottle from the piled-up clutter on the table and throw it at Poe. “You’re being melodramatic, Dameron.”

Poe bit down his quip that this was the pot calling the kettle black, and glanced at the bottle. “Algae sugar? Seriously?”

All he got in response was a shrug. “I knew you would forget to bring the sugar, you always forget, but I’m not your maid.”

Trust Kylo Ren to be spiteful even while being nice; if he hadn’t been so annoyed he would have laughed.

Poe poured a generous amount of algae – shudder! – sugar into his caf. You didn’t look a gift bantha into the mouth. “I didn’t forget. I hurried up so you wouldn’t run out on me again.”

“Hm.” Ren went back to spooning the purple rations mass into his mouth. “If you wanted entertainment you should have travelled with your friends.”

Poe rolled his eyes. “Which would have made an awful lot of sense when we have different targets on different schedules, while you and I are working together.”

That earned him another shrug. “You were the one who complained.”

“Did not. I was just pointing out your grumpiness.”

It was uncanny how easily they fell back into the banter of their shared breakfasts, and yet a moment later everything was awkward again.

Poe found himself yearning for their shared mornings. He also found himself yearning for lunch, the purple glibber was actually starting to smell appetizingly, but he had no doubt that Ren would run again if he gave him half a chance.

He didn’t even know why he cared that he was being shunned, just that he did. All he knew was that sometime over the past weeks Kylo Ren had stopped giving him goosebumps. Or maybe he just didn’t feel comfortable getting the silent treatment, beyond doubt Kylo Ren would blame it on that.

“Kaydel Ko told me a funny story the other day.” He waited for Ren to acknowledge him, but there was nothing. “Would you like to hear it?” He kept his tone of voice friendly and light. He was good at friendly. Or he had been, until Kylo.

Ren met his eyes. He looked tired. Not tired for having gotten too little sleep, but like someone who was tired of fighting, which was really kind of unfair since he’d been the one to pick this fight. “You’re going to tell me your story anyway.”

“No.” Poe waited, and yes, he relished in the surprise that flickered over Ren’s face. That had caught him off guard. He leaned forward, elbows propped up on his knees. “I’d rather fix what went wrong between us.”

For all his efforts he just got a stubbornly blank look. “I’d rather hear about Kaydel Ko’s latest gardening mishap.”

Poe took a deep breath. “Okay.” He put down his mug, and rubbed between his eyes with both forefingers. “Okay. I went about this all wrong. Just like last week.”

It was harder, here on this little ship with just the two of them and BB-8 recharging in his quarters. There was no background chatter, no constant hum of life, just the soft thrum of the hyperdrive and the knowledge that they were all alone in the vastness of space.

Poe frowned. “You know,” he mused aloud, “it didn’t even occur to me that this is the first time I’m alone with you. And I’m talking properly alone, not alone in a room.” _Nobody can hear you scream in space_ , the older flight students would goad the greenhorns, but that hadn’t even occurred to Poe. He’d been too frustrated with Kylo’s attitude to think of the actual danger he posed.

“I’m sure you would have connected the dots the first time you wake up from a nightmare.”

They went silent again. Kylo eating, Poe drinking and wishing he were eating.

Suddenly the bowl with purple glibber, a third of it left, was thrust at him. Kylo Ren made a disgruntled noise. “Here. I can’t take your mournful looks any longer.”

Poe blinked. Did that… Was that…? First the sugar, now the food.

“I’m sorry, too.”

It was probably more algae something, but nutrition paste had never tasted better to Poe.

There was silence between them for a while, but it was less tense than before, and while it wasn’t the companionable silence he shared with his friends Poe thought he could learn to be comfortable with it.

“I didn’t want it to end as it did,” Ren said out of the blue.

“I believe you.” Poe let a heartbeat pass. “But did it end?” He didn’t need to wait for an answer. “You should have told me, that’s what bothered me, not just…” He waved his spoon around. “I thought we were a team.”

It was very quiet, and maybe wishful thinking altogether, but he could have sworn he heard Kylo Ren say, “I thought so, too.”

He couldn’t even say he was angry. Kylo’s colleagues – friends? – had made him choose between them and Poe. If Poe had been put before such a choice and duty weren’t involved, he wouldn’t have hesitated for a second. Mind you, he still wondered why Kylo thought he could call it off after his prior complaints that he had no choice but to go along with it, but the less he knew about the Knights’ shady arrangements, the better.

“You know,” Poe said between mouthfuls of green mystery glibber, “I think it would have worked.” Kylo looked at him. He seemed oddly vulnerable, walls down. “Our relationship. Fake relationship. Given enough time we could have made people buy it.”

And that he was now wistful for this playacting when he had been so bitter about it before, well, the only explanation Poe had for that was that he was lonelier than he’d ever realized. Maybe he should listen to Jess, she’d been telling him all along that he needed more in life than being married to his X-Wing.

Ren didn’t say anything, but he couldn’t meet Poe’s eyes. He decided to take it as agreement. Maybe Ren was a little bit wistful as well. Poe must have been the closest he came to having a friend in all his time with the Resistance.

“Casterfo is furious.”

Poe blinked at him. “Of course he is, who wouldn’t? You gave him your word.” But that Kylo admitted to it meant a lot anyway. “That we’re here together… I take it he hasn’t given up yet.”

“He hasn’t.” Kylo shrugged slightly. “He has his orders, too. The government wants a propaganda couple, and we aren’t easily replaced.”

“Want to hook up one of your Knights with one of my pilots?”

Kylo chuckled. He had a nice laugh, it wasn’t even an evil villain cackle, and Poe couldn’t help feeling kind of smug for tickling such laughter out of him.

Damn it, why was he only getting invested now that Kylo had called it off? Maybe exactly for this reason, Poe suspected. It was safe to be okay with something if it wasn’t going to happen anyway. He just didn’t like to think what this said about him. He’d rarely felt like a coward.

“We might have to, if only to get them off our backs.”

It was Poe’s turn to laugh, and when Kylo prompted him again to speak of Kaydel Ko’s gardening adventures, he gladly did so.

It was nice sitting together, chatting, with no need to perform for anyone. No measuring every look, the pitch of his voice, calculating exactly how close he ought to lean in to hint at something more to come. And whatever little kindness Ren showed him, at least he knew it was real.

The optimist in Poe wanted to believe that they stood a chance at genuine friendship now. The pessimist in him pointed out that Kylo Ren had gone back on his word as soon as he saw the chance to force a better deal. He didn’t even care what it would cost the Resistance or his own Knights.

The pragmatist in Poe agreed with the pessimist.

 

At the end of these three days Poe Dameron decided he would never be able to figure out Kylo Ren.

After their chat the man had gone right back to ignoring him, and been nothing short of snappish whenever Poe tried to force interaction. Since it wasn’t in his nature to disrespect boundaries, he had backed off when he realized his company would remain unwelcome.

That had left him to try and make sense of Kylo’s behavior. He couldn’t, was the short answer, with the longer being that he had soon enough been too frustrated to try any longer. They were too old and tired to play games, and it wasn’t as if there was any point to playing them with Poe.

They were both just pawns in a game of greater powers, and if Kylo couldn’t see that, well, then Poe would be better off without such an unreliable ally.

 

“Can I trust you to keep your mind on the mission?” Poe asked when they were finally reunited, going through the plan one last time. Poe sat in the pilot’s chair of their shuttle, a mug of caf tucked between his thighs while he checked the nav data BB-8 was sending him onto the screen.

Kylo was leaning against the co-pilot’s chair. If it looked like he couldn’t even commit enough to their togetherness to sit down, well, Poe had decided to be professional and swallow down all his annoyance

“My mind has never been on anything but, Commander.”

Poe winced. “Alright, my bad. Sorry, buddy, that was uncalled for.” But it wasn’t uncalled to wonder, though he should have kept such doubts to himself. Ren’s erratic behavior wasn’t exactly trust-inspiring.

Ren remained silent. It wasn’t forgiven, and wasn’t okay.

“Time to drink up, we’ll be coming out of hyperspace soon. Then it’s just a matter of hoping for the best. As long as our codes are valid we should be fine till we land. Then…” Poe frowned slightly as he stared straight ahead.

“It will be up to our caution and skill,” Kylo said firmly.

Poe nodded. “Yes, of course,” he agreed, though Kylo made it sound a lot easier than it was. “And we can’t afford to fail. Even if Rey makes it onto the Star Destroyer alright, the losses will be far too high if we can’t take out the planetary security.”

Kylo made a humming noise at the back of his throat.

It would be the first time, Poe mused, that he fought side by side with Kylo Ren. The only time their missions had ever crossed was that fateful day on Jakku. All things considered it was a terrible idea to have them work together for the first time on such an important mission. They hadn’t even run a simulation together and yes, he knew that had been his own fault, his reluctance to spend more time than necessary with Ren.

Poe rubbed a hand over his face and emptied his mug. “Okay. We’re nearly there. Could you get to the gunner’s station, just in case?”

Kylo took the empty mug from Poe, but he made no move to leave. “If they recognize our codes as stolen we won’t last long enough to shoot back.”

He clenched his teeth. “I know. But go anyway. I’m not going to sit here and _wait_ for them to shoot us from the sky.”

There was a tense moment in which he wondered if Ren would refuse. This was another uncertainty of their mission. With the command structure being the mess it was, Ren would have enough wriggle room to disobey Poe’s orders and get away with a slap on the wrist, and they both knew it.

Ren let the silence stretch. Poe could have sworn he was enjoying it. Then there was a sharp nod. “Understood, Commander.”

“Thank you, Lord Ren,” Poe responded in the same crisply formal tone of voice. Somehow he managed to keep the biting sarcasm all to himself.

To be continued

Merken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and see you in 2017! There's big things coming up, such as a battle, and boys having to get back on track with their fake relationship!


	8. The Winner's Curse

_The winner's curse is a phenomenon […], wherein the winner will tend to overpay due to emotional reasons or incomplete information._  
\- Wikipedia

If everything went well their First Order shuttle would be sending a perfectly inconspicuous transponder signal and if it went even better their access codes would pass muster, identifying them as a routine cargo shipment for the Stormtrooper training facility on the surface.

That was a whole lot more of what ifs than Poe felt comfortable with.

His heart raced a mile a minute as he waited for the Star Destroyer to acknowledge the stolen codes.

The plan was simple enough.

Two shuttles, each holding Resistance troops and Knights of Ren, would sneak through the planetary shield and attack the planetary defense systems. Meanwhile, the Jedi infiltrated the orbital installations to take down the shield itself. As soon as it was down the fleet would jump into the system and lay waste to the crippled First Order.

He wasn’t blind to the finer details, like the Jedi having been given the part of the mission where escape was possible if things went wrong.

If they didn’t win, the Knights and their pilots would be trapped on a planet full of enemies.

“Did you know the original plan had me with the main fleet?” Poe commed Kylo, who was dutifully awaiting further orders at the gunner’s station.

There was nothing but static for a little while before Kylo asked, “Whom did you anger to get sent on the suicide mission?”

“I asked.”

The haughty, clipped voice of a First Order officer confirmed his codes and Poe felt his belly unclench.

The other team would be down already, their mission involved more complex sabotage and prep work while Poe and Kylo had the straightforward part. He somehow suspected this was because nobody trusted Kylo Ren to play by the rules for long, or stick to a plan once things got complicated. Poe couldn’t blame them, it would be half a miracle if Kylo listened to him in the first place.

Yeah, he had a _really_ good feeling about this one…

 

Like these things always did, it turned into a mess when they least expected it.

It would have been a lie to say the Resistance hadn’t expected it to happen, but they had still hoped the First Order wouldn’t send the cadets against them.

Of course, hoping it wouldn’t happen guaranteed it did.

Maybe General Organa hadn’t only sent the Knights down here because they were expendable – maybe she had chosen them because she didn’t want her own troops to live with this burden.

Poe did his best to avoid killing shots and Kylo seemed to follow his lead – there was no time to ask why, and Poe simply counted his blessings without questioning them. Either way, it did wonders for morale to see him throwing whole groups of Stormtroopers into the air and knocking them out against walls, stopping blaster fire with the red crossguard lightsaber shining brightly in the middle of the battlefield chaos.

The young Stormtroopers had been raised in fear and awe of the Knights of Ren, none of them were eager to fight them.

The two hours between making it through the shield and the comm that reinforcement was on the way still felt like two weeks to Poe.

Once X-Wings streaked over the sky, the battle was all but won. This was a training facility, not a proper military stronghold, and in the end by sending the cadets, even the smallest of them, into battle, they had made their job easier – the Resistance had counted on needing to take the facility building for building, unable to air raid the facilities for fear of bombing the children they had come to save. With the base cleared out, they didn’t have to hold back.

 

“The strategist in me hoped they would do that,” Finn said quietly when the three of them sat reunited in the infirmary, Finn who was the least injured sitting between Rey and Poe’s beds. He rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. He looked tired, and parsecs away from his usual bright smile. “But the rest of me had dreaded it. I would have rather we had to take the base slowly than to have them fighting.”

Rey took his hand and squeezed it. She rubbed her thumb over his knuckles. “It is what it is. You made the right calls when it counted and kept things from getting worse.”

“Many good people died.” He gritted his teeth. “And too many of the officers escaped.”

Poe nodded grimly. “I heard of that. They gave orders to the older cadets to hold the base, no matter what, and fled, right? That wasn’t just where I was fighting?”

Finn nodded once. “I know it’s all for the better. If the officers hadn’t fled, the cadets would have been forced to keep fighting much longer, I just…”

He trailed off and Rey and Poe exchanged a helpless, mournful look. Finn had left the cruelties of the First Order behind him for the most part but that must have been a harsh reminder how little worth the life of Stormtroopers had to them.

It wasn’t fair, thought Poe. Finn had commanded the main force, this entire attack had been his brainchild and passion, and they had won. Saved thousands of children from becoming Stormtroopers in the First Order’s war machine, given a painful blow to the same war machine. It should have been a day of pride for him, not one which reminded him bitterly that he had been nothing but an object to be used and thrown away to the organization that had controlled his life for so long.

Finn stood up, smoothing his hands a little bit awkwardly over his tan Resistance uniform. “I have to go. We have to get the kids registered and loaded onto ships. We were lucky the officers cared more about running than cleaning up behind themselves, but Snoke might send them back to nuke it all while the planetary shield’s still down.”

It was understandable Finn would want to supervise it himself but Poe couldn’t help noticing the slump to his shoulders as he walked away.

“Will he be okay?” It was Rey who voiced their shared worry before Poe could do so.

He gave an unhappy shrug – or started to, anyway, and thought better of it once pain raced through his body. “He’s tough. As for the rest…  You’re the Jedi, you tell me.” He shot Rey a grin to go with the words to take the sting out of them. He didn’t mean to be cruel but really, Rey with all her superpowers would be able to tell better.

“He’s tough,” she echoed, for all the non-answer that it was.

Maybe, Poe thought, they would simply have to count their blessings that against all expectations, their new allies had neither betrayed them nor ruined the mission. He knew that at the party later General Organa would speak of an important step towards the annihilation of the First Order, and of a new beginning for the New Republic and the Knights of Ren to boot. Maybe she would speak of trust and the strength of bonds forged on the battlefield, that’s what Poe had told his pilots. But Poe had been on the ground, he remembered the cadets and the price they had paid for the Resistance’s victory.

On the heels of the New Republic’s first decisive victory in months, it made for a disappointingly somber triumph.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and please check out the other [Knightpilotweek](http://knightpilotweek.tumblr.com) fanworks as well.


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